The Golden Fleece

When Jason, the son of the dethroned King of
Iolchos, was a little boy, he was sent away from
his parents, and placed under the queerest
schoolmaster that ever you heard of. This learned
person was one of the people, or quadrupeds,
called Centaurs. He lived in a cavern, and had
the body and legs of a white horse, with the head
and shoulders of a man. His name was Chiron; and,
in spite of his odd appearance, he was a very
excellent teacher, and had several scholars, who
afterwards did him credit by making a great figure
in the world. The famous Hercules was one, and so
was Achilles, and Philoctetes likewise, and
Æsculapius, who acquired immense repute as a
doctor. The good Chiron taught his pupils how to
play upon the harp, and how to cure diseases, and
how to use the sword and shield, together with
various other branches of education, in which the
lads of those days used to be instructed, instead
of writing and arithmetic.

I have sometimes suspected that Master Chiron was
not really very different from other people, but
that, being a kind-hearted and merry old fellow,
he was in the habit of making believe that he was
a horse, and scrambling about the schoolroom on
all fours, and letting the little boys ride upon
his back. And so, when his scholars had grown up,
and grown old, and were trotting their
grandchildren on their knees, they told them about
the sports of their school days; and these young
folks took the idea that their grandfathers had
been taught their letters by a Centaur, half man
and half horse. Little children, not quite
understanding what is said to them, often get such
absurd notions into their heads, you know.

Be that as it may, it has always been told for a
fact (and always will be told, as long as the
world lasts), that Chiron, with the head of a
schoolmaster, had the body and legs of a horse.
Just imagine the grave old gentleman clattering
and stamping into the schoolroom on his four
hoofs, perhaps treading on some little fellow's
toes, flourishing his switch tail instead of a
rod, and, now and then, trotting out of doors to
eat a mouthful of grass! I wonder what the
blacksmith charged him for a set of iron shoes?

So Jason dwelt in the cave, with this four-footed
Chiron, from the time that he was an infant, only
a few months old, until he had grown to the full
height of a man. He became a very good harper, I
suppose, and skilful in the use of weapons, and
tolerably acquainted with herbs and other doctor's
stuff, and, above all, an admirable horseman; for,
in teaching young people to ride, the good Chiron
must have been without a rival among
schoolmasters. At length, being now a tall and
athletic youth, Jason resolved to seek his fortune
in the world, without asking Chiron's advice, or
telling him anything about the matter. This was
very unwise, to be sure; and I hope none of you,
my little hearers, will ever follow Jason's
example.

But, you are to understand, he had heard how that
he himself was a prince royal, and how his father,
King Jason, had been deprived of the kingdom of
Iolchos by a certain Pelias, who would also have
killed Jason, had he not been hidden in the
Centaur's cave. And, being come to the strength
of a man, Jason determined to set all this
business to rights, and to punish the wicked
Pelias for wronging his dear father, and to cast
him down from the throne, and seat himself there
instead.

With this intention, he took a spear in each hand,
and threw a leopard's skin over his shoulders, to
keep off the rain, and set forth on his travels,
with his long yellow ringlets waving in the wind.
The part of his dress on which he most prided
himself was a pair of sandals, that had been his
father's. They were handsomely embroidered, and
were tied upon his feet with strings of gold. But
his whole attire was such as people did not very
often see; and as he passed along, the women and
children ran to the doors and windows, wondering
whither this beautiful youth was journeying, with
his leopard's skin and his golden-tied sandals,
and what heroic deeds he meant to perform, with a
spear in his right hand and another in his left.

I know not how far Jason had traveled, when he
came to a turbulent river, which rushed right
across his pathway, with specks of white foam
among its black eddies, hurrying tumultuously
onward, and roaring angrily as it went. Though
not a very broad river in the dry seasons of the
year, it was now swollen by heavy rains and by the
melting of the snow on the sides of Mount Olympus;
and it thundered so loudly, and looked so wild and
dangerous, that Jason, bold as he was, thought it
prudent to pause upon the brink. The bed of the
stream seemed to be strewn with sharp and rugged
rocks, some of which thrust themselves above the
water. By and by, an uprooted tree, with
shattered branches, came drifting along the
current, and got entangled among the rocks. Now
and then, a drowned sheep, and once the carcass of
a cow, floated past.

In short, the swollen river had already done a
great deal of mischief. It was evidently too deep
for Jason to wade, and too boisterous for him to
swim; he could see no bridge; and as for a boat,
had there been any, the rocks would have broken it
to pieces in an instant.

"See the poor lad," said a cracked voice
close to his side. "He must have had but a
poor education, since he does not know how to
cross a little stream like this. Or is he afraid
of wetting his fine golden-stringed sandals? It
is a pity his four-footed schoolmaster is not here
to carry him safely across on his back!"

Jason looked round greatly surprised, for he did
not know that anybody was near. But beside him
stood an old woman, with a ragged mantle over her
head, leaning on a staff, the top of which was
carved into the shape of a cuckoo. She looked
very aged, and wrinkled, and infirm; and yet her
eyes, which were as brown as those of an ox, were
so extremely large and beautiful, that, when they
were fixed on Jason's eyes, he could see nothing
else but them. The old woman had a pomegranate in
her hand, although the fruit was then quite out of
season.

"Whither are you going, Jason?" she now
asked.

She seemed to know his name, you will observe;
and, indeed, those great brown eyes looked as if
they had a knowledge of everything, whether past
or to come. While Jason was gazing at her, a
peacock strutted forward, and took his stand at
the old woman's side.

"I am going to Iolchos," answered the
young man, "to bid the wicked King Pelias
come down from my father's throne, and let me
reign in his stead."

"Ah, well, then," said the old woman,
still with the same cracked voice, "if that
is all your business, you need not be in a very
great hurry. Just take me on your back, there's a
good youth, and carry me across the river. I and
my peacock have something to do on the other side,
as well as yourself."

"Good mother," replied Jason, "your
business can hardly be so important as the pulling
down a king from his throne. Besides, as you may
see for yourself, the river is very boisterous;
and if I should chance to stumble, it would sweep
both of us away more easily than it has carried
off yonder uprooted tree. I would gladly help you
if I could; but I doubt whether I am strong enough
to carry you across."

"Then," said she, very scornfully,
"neither are you strong enough to pull King
Pelias off his throne. And, Jason, unless you
will help an old woman at her need, you ought not
to be a king. What are kings made for, save to
succor the feeble and distressed? But do as you
please. Either take me on your back, or with my
poor old limbs I shall try my best to struggle
across the stream."

Saying this, the old woman poked with her staff in
the river, as if to find the safest place in its
rocky bed where she might make the first step.
But Jason, by this time, had grown ashamed of his
reluctance to help her. He felt that he could
never forgive himself, if this poor feeble
creature should come to any harm in attempting to
wrestle against the headlong current. The good
Chiron, whether half horse or no, had taught him
that the noblest use of his strength was to assist
the weak; and also that he must treat every young
woman as if she were his sister, and every old one
like a mother. Remembering these maxims, the
vigorous and beautiful young man knelt down, and
requested the good dame to mount upon his back.

"The passage seems to me not very safe,"
he remarked. "But as your business is so
urgent, I will try to carry you across. If the
river sweeps you away, it shall take me too."

"That, no doubt, will be a great comfort to
both of us," quoth the old woman. "But
never fear. We shall get safely across."

So she threw her arms around Jason's neck; and
lifting her from the ground, he stepped boldly
into the raging and foaming current, and began to
stagger away from the shore. As for the peacock,
it alighted on the old dame's shoulder. Jason's
two spears, one in each hand, kept him from
stumbling, and enabled him to feel his way among
the hidden rocks; although every instant, he
expected that his companion and himself would go
down the stream, together with the driftwood of
shattered trees, and the carcasses of the sheep
and cow. Down came the cold, snowy torrent from
the steep side of Olympus, raging and thundering
as if it had a real spite against Jason, or, at
all events, were determined to snatch off his
living burden from his shoulders. When he was
half way across, the uprooted tree (which I have
already told you about) broke loose from among the
rocks, and bore down upon him, with all its
splintered branches sticking out like the hundred
arms of the giant Briareus. It rushed past,
however, without touching him. But the next
moment his foot was caught in a crevice between
two rocks, and stuck there so fast, that, in the
effort to get free, he lost one of his
golden-stringed sandals.

At this accident Jason could not help uttering a
cry of vexation.

"What is the matter, Jason?" asked the
old woman.

"Matter enough," said the young man.
"I have lost a sandal here among the rocks.
And what sort of a figure shall I cut, at the
court of King Pelias, with a golden-stringed
sandal on one foot, and the other foot bare!"

"Do not take it to heart," answered his
companion cheerily. "You never met with
better fortune than in losing that sandal. It
satisfies me that you are the very person whom the
Speaking Oak has been talking about."

There was no time, just then, to inquire what the
Speaking Oak had said. But the briskness of her
tone encouraged the young man; and, besides, he
had never in his life felt so vigorous and mighty
as since taking this old woman on his back.
Instead of being exhausted, he gathered strength
as he went on; and, struggling up against the
torrent, he at last gained the opposite shore,
clambered up the bank, and set down the old dame
and her peacock safely on the grass. As soon as
this was done, however, he could not help looking
rather despondently at his bare foot, with only a
remnant of the golden string of the sandal
clinging round his ankle.

"You will get a handsomer pair of sandals by
and by," said the old woman, with a kindly
look out of her beautiful brown eyes. "Only
let King Pelias get a glimpse of that bare foot,
and you shall see him turn as pale as ashes, I
promise you. There is your path. Go along, my
good Jason, and my blessing go with you. And when
you sit on your throne remember the old woman whom
you helped over the river."

With these words, she hobbled away, giving him a
smile over her shoulder as she departed.

Whether the light of her beautiful brown eyes
threw a glory round about her, or whatever the
cause might be, Jason fancied that there was
something very noble and majestic in her figure,
after all, and that, though her gait seemed to be
a rheumatic hobble, yet she moved with as much
grace and dignity as any queen on earth. Her
peacock, which had now fluttered down from her
shoulder, strutted behind her in a prodigious
pomp, and spread out its magnificent tail on
purpose for Jason to admire it.

When the old dame and her peacock were out of
sight, Jason set forward on his journey. After
traveling a pretty long distance, he came to a
town situated at the foot of a mountain, and not a
great way from the shore of the sea. On the
outside of the town there was an immense crowd of
people, not only men and women, but children too,
all in their best clothes, and evidently enjoying
a holiday. The crowd was thickest towards the
sea-shore; and in that direction, over the
people's heads, Jason saw a wreath of smoke
curling upward to the blue sky. He inquired of
one of the multitude what town it was near by, and
why so many persons were here assembled together.

"This is the kingdom of Iolchos,"
answered the man, "and we are the subjects of
King Pelias. Our monarch has summoned us
together, that we may see him sacrifice a black
bull to Neptune, who, they say, is his majesty's
father. Yonder is the king, where you see the
smoke going up from the altar."

While the man spoke he eyed Jason with great
curiosity; for his garb was quite unlike that of
the Iolchians, and it looked very odd to see a
youth with a leopard's skin over his shoulders,
and each hand grasping a spear. Jason perceived,
too, that the man stared particularly at his feet,
one of which, you remember, was bare, while the
other was decorated with his father's
golden-stringed sandal.

"Look at him! only look at him!" said
the man to his next neighbor. "Do you see?
He wears but one sandal!"

Upon this, first one person, and then another,
began to stare at Jason, and everybody seemed to
be greatly struck with something in his aspect;
though they turned their eyes much oftener towards
his feet than to any other part of his figure.
Besides, he could hear them whispering to one
another.

"One sandal! One sandal!" they kept
saying. "The man with one sandal! Here he
is at last! Whence has he come? What does he
mean to do? What will the king say to the
one-sandaled man?"

Poor Jason was greatly abashed, and made up his
mind that the people of Iolchos were exceedingly
ill-bred, to take such public notice of an
accidental deficiency in his dress. Meanwhile,
whether it were that they hustled him forward, or
that Jason, of his own accord, thrust a passage
through the crowd, it so happened that he soon
found himself close to the smoking altar, where
King Pelias was sacrificing the black bull. The
murmur and hum of the multitude, in their surprise
at the spectacle of Jason with his one bare foot,
grew so loud that it disturbed the ceremonies; and
the king, holding the great knife with which he
was just going to cut the bull's throat, turned
angrily about, and fixed his eyes on Jason. The
people had now withdrawn from around him, so that
the youth stood in an open space, near the smoking
altar, front to front with the angry King Pelias.

"Who are you?" cried the king, with a
terrible frown. "And how dare you make this
disturbance, while I am sacrificing a black bull
to my father Neptune?"

"It is no fault of mine," answered
Jason. "Your majesty must blame the rudeness
of your subjects, who have raised all this tumult
because one of my feet happens to be bare."

When Jason said this, the king gave a quick
startled glance down at his feet.

"Ha!" muttered he, "here is the
one-sandaled fellow, sure enough! What can I do
with him?"

And he clutched more closely the great knife in
his hand, as if he were half a mind to slay Jason,
instead of the black bull. The people round about
caught up the king's words, indistinctly as they
were uttered; and first there was a murmur amongst
them, and then a loud shout.

"The one-sandaled man has come! The prophecy
must be fulfilled!"

For you are to know, that, many years before, King
Pelias had been told by the Speaking Oak of
Dodona, that a man with one sandal should cast him
down from his throne. On this account, he had
given strict orders that nobody should ever come
into his presence, unless both sandals were
securely tied upon his feet; and he kept an
officer in his palace, whose sole business it was
to examine people's sandals, and to supply them
with a new pair, at the expense of the royal
treasury, as soon as the old ones began to wear
out. In the whole course of the king's reign, he
had never been thrown into such a fright and
agitation as by the spectacle of poor Jason's bare
foot. But, as he was naturally a bold and
hard-hearted man, he soon took courage, and began
to consider in what way he might rid himself of
this terrible one-sandaled stranger.

"My good young man," said King Pelias,
taking the softest tone imaginable, in order to
throw Jason off his guard, "you are
excessively welcome to my kingdom. Judging by
your dress, you must have traveled a long
distance, for it is not the fashion to wear
leopard skins in this part of the world. Pray
what may I call your name? and where did you
receive your education?"

"My name is Jason," answered the young
stranger. "Ever since my infancy, I have
dwelt in the cave of Chiron the Centaur. He was
my instructor, and taught me music, and
horsemanship, and how to cure wounds, and likewise
how to inflict wounds with my weapons!"

"I have heard of Chiron the
schoolmaster," replied King Pelias, "and
how that there is an immense deal of learning and
wisdom in his head, although it happens to be set
on a horse's body. It gives me great delight to
see one of his scholars at my court. But to test
how much you have profited under so excellent a
teacher, will you allow me to ask you a single
question?"

"I do not pretend to be very wise," said
Jason. "But ask me what you please, and I
will answer to the best of my ability."

Now King Pelias meant cunningly to entrap the
young man, and to make him say something that
should be the cause of mischief and distraction to
himself. So, with a crafty and evil smile upon
his face, he spoke as follows:

"What would you do, brave Jason," asked
he, "if there were a man in the world, by
whom, as you had reason to believe, you were
doomed to be ruined and slain--what would you do,
I say, if that man stood before you, and in your
power?"

When Jason saw the malice and wickedness which
King Pelias could not prevent from gleaming out of
his eyes, he probably guessed that the king had
discovered what he came for, and that he intended
to turn his own words against himself. Still he
scorned to tell a falsehood. Like an upright and
honorable prince as he was, he determined to speak
out the real truth. Since the king had chosen to
ask him the question, and since Jason had promised
him an answer, there was no right way save to tell
him precisely what would be the most prudent thing
to do, if he had his worst enemy in his power.

Therefore, after a moment's consideration, he
spoke up, with a firm and manly voice.

"I would send such a man," said he,
"in quest of the Golden Fleece!"

This enterprise, you will understand, was, of all
others, the most difficult and dangerous in the
world. In the first place it would be necessary
to make a long voyage through unknown seas. There
was hardly a hope, or a possibility, that any
young man who should undertake this voyage would
either succeed in obtaining the Golden Fleece, or
would survive to return home, and tell of the
perils he had run. The eyes of King Pelias
sparkled with joy, therefore, when he heard
Jason's reply.

"Well said, wise man with the one
sandal!" cried he. "Go, then, and at
the peril of your life, bring me back the Golden
Fleece."

"I go," answered Jason, composedly.
"If I fail, you need not fear that I will
ever come back to trouble you again. But if I
return to Iolchos with the prize, then, King
Pelias, you must hasten down from your lofty
throne, and give me your crown and sceptre."

"That I will," said the king, with a
sneer. "Meantime, I will keep them very
safely for you."

The first thing that Jason thought of doing, after
he left the king's presence, was to go to Dodona,
and inquire of the Talking Oak what course it was
best to pursue. This wonderful tree stood in the
center of an ancient wood. Its stately trunk rose
up a hundred feet into the air, and threw a broad
and dense shadow over more than an acre of ground.
Standing beneath it, Jason looked up among the
knotted branches and green leaves, and into the
mysterious heart of the old tree, and spoke aloud,
as if he were addressing some person who was
hidden in the depths of the foliage.

"What shall I do," said he, "in
order to win the Golden Fleece?"

At first there was a deep silence, not only within
the shadow of the Talking Oak, but all through the
solitary wood. In a moment or two, however, the
leaves of the oak began to stir and rustle, as if
a gentle breeze were wandering amongst them,
although the other trees of the wood were
perfectly still. The sound grew louder, and
became like the roar of a high wind. By and by,
Jason imagined that he could distinguish words,
but very confusedly, because each separate leaf of
the tree seemed to be a tongue, and the whole
myriad of tongues were babbling at once. But the
noise waxed broader and deeper, until it resembled
a tornado sweeping through the oak, and making one
great utterance out of the thousand and thousand
of little murmurs which each leafy tongue had
caused by its rustling. And now, though it still
had the tone of a mighty wind roaring among the
branches, it was also like a deep bass voice,
speaking as distinctly as a tree could be expected
to speak, the following words:

"Go to Argus, the shipbuilder, and bid him
build a galley with fifty oars."

Then the voice melted again into the indistinct
murmur of the rustling leaves, and died gradually
away. When it was quite gone, Jason felt inclined
to doubt whether he had actually heard the words,
or whether his fancy had not shaped them out of
the ordinary sound made by a breeze, while passing
through the thick foliage of the tree.

But on inquiry among the people of Iolchos, he
found that there was really a man in the city, by
the name of Argus, who was a very skilful builder
of vessels. This showed some intelligence in the
oak; else how should it have known that any such
person existed? At Jason's request, Argus readily
consented to build him a galley so big that it
should require fifty strong men to row it;
although no vessel of such a size and burden had
heretofore been seen in the world. So the head
carpenter and all his journeymen and apprentices
began their work; and for a good while afterwards,
there they were, busily employed, hewing out the
timbers, and making a great clatter with their
hammers; until the new ship, which was called the
Argo, seemed to be quite ready for sea. And, as
the Talking Oak had already given him such good
advice, Jason thought that it would not be amiss
to ask for a little more. He visited it again,
therefore, and standing beside its huge, rough
trunk, inquired what he should do next.

This time, there was no such universal quivering
of the leaves, throughout the whole tree, as there
had been before. But after a while, Jason
observed that the foliage of a great branch which
stretched above his head had begun to rustle, as
if the wind were stirring that one bough, while
all the other boughs of the oak were at rest.

"Cut me off!" said the branch, as soon
as it could speak distinctly; "cut me off!
cut me off! and carve me into a figure-head for
your galley."

Accordingly, Jason took the branch at its word,
and lopped it off the tree. A carver in the
neighborhood engaged to make the figurehead. He
was a tolerably good workman, and had already
carved several figure-heads, in what he intended
for feminine shapes, and looking pretty much like
those which we see nowadays stuck up under a
vessel's bowsprit, with great staring eyes, that
never wink at the dash of the spray. But (what
was very strange) the carver found that his hand
was guided by some unseen power, and by a skill
beyond his own, and that his tools shaped out an
image which he had never dreamed of. When the
work was finished, it turned out to be the figure
of a beautiful woman, with a helmet on her head,
from beneath which the long ringlets fell down
upon her shoulders. On the left arm was a shield,
and in its center appeared a lifelike
representation of the head of Medusa with the
snaky locks. The right arm was extended, as if
pointing onward. The face of this wonderful
statue, though not angry or forbidding, was so
grave and majestic, that perhaps you might call it
severe; and as for the mouth, it seemed just ready
to unclose its lips, and utter words of the
deepest wisdom.

Jason was delighted with the oaken image, and gave
the carver no rest until it was completed, and set
up where a figure-head has always stood, from that
time to this, in the vessel's prow.

"And now," cried he, as he stood gazing
at the calm, majestic face of the statue, "I
must go to the Talking Oak and inquire what next
to do."

"There is no need of that, Jason," said
a voice which, though it was far lower, reminded
him of the mighty tones of the great oak.
"When you desire good advice, you can seek it
of me."

Jason had been looking straight into the face of
the image when these words were spoken. But he
could hardly believe either his ears or his eyes.
The truth was, however, that the oaken lips had
moved, and, to all appearance, the voice had
proceeded from the statue's mouth. Recovering a
little from his surprise, Jason bethought himself
that the image had been carved out of the wood of
the Talking Oak, and that, therefore, it was
really no great wonder, but on the contrary, the
most natural thing in the world, that it should
possess the faculty of speech. It would have been
very odd, indeed, if it had not. But certainly it
was a great piece of good fortune that he should
be able to carry so wise a block of wood along
with him in his perilous voyage.

"Tell me, wondrous image," exclaimed
Jason, --"since you inherit the wisdom of the
Speaking Oak of Dodona, whose daughter you
are,--tell me, where shall I find fifty bold
youths, who will take each of them an oar of my
galley? They must have sturdy arms to row, and
brave hearts to encounter perils, or we shall
never win the Golden Fleece."

"Go," replied the oaken image, "go,
summon all the heroes of Greece."

And, in fact, considering what a great deed was to
be done, could any advice be wiser than this which
Jason received from the figure-head of his vessel?
He lost no time in sending messengers to all the
cities, and making known to the whole people of
Greece, that Prince Jason, the son of King Jason,
was going in quest of the Fleece of Gold, and that
he desired the help of forty-nine of the bravest
and strongest young men alive, to row his vessel
and share his dangers. And Jason himself would be
the fiftieth.

At this news, the adventurous youths, all over the
country, began to bestir themselves. Some of them
had already fought with giants, and slain dragons;
and the younger ones, who had not yet met with
such good fortune, thought it a shame to have
lived so long without getting astride of a flying
serpent, or sticking their spears into a Chimæra,
or, at least, thrusting their right arms down a
monstrous lion's throat. There was a fair
prospect that they would meet with plenty of such
adventures before finding the Golden Fleece. As
soon as they could furbish up their helmets and
shields, therefore, and gird on their trusty
swords, they came thronging to Iolchos, and
clambered on board the new galley. Shaking hands
with Jason, they assured him that they did not
care a pin for their lives, but would help row the
vessel to the remotest edge of the world, and as
much farther as he might think it best to go.

Many of these brave fellows had been educated by
Chiron, the four-footed pedagogue, and were
therefore old schoolmates of Jason, and knew him
to be a lad of spirit. The mighty Hercules, whose
shoulders afterwards upheld the sky, was one of
them. And there were Castor and Pollux, the twin
brothers, who were never accused of being
chicken-hearted, although they had been hatched
out of an egg; and Theseus, who was so renowned
for killing the Minotaur, and Lynceus, with his
wonderfully sharp eyes, which could see through a
millstone, or look right down into the depths of
the earth, and discover the treasures that were
there; and Orpheus, the very best of harpers, who
sang and played upon his lyre so sweetly, that the
brute beasts stood upon their hind legs, and
capered merrily to the music. Yes, and at some of
his more moving tunes, the rocks bestirred their
moss-grown bulk out of the ground, and a grove of
forest trees uprooted themselves, and, nodding
their tops to one another, performed a country
dance.

One of the rowers was a beautiful young woman,
named Atalanta. who had been nursed among the
mountains by a bear. So light of foot was this
fair damsel, that she could step from one foamy
crest of a wave to the foamy crest of another,
without wetting more than the sole of her sandal.
She had grown up in a very wild way, and talked
much about the rights of women, and loved hunting
and war far better than her needle. But in my
opinion, the most remarkable of this famous
company were two sons of the North Wind (airy
youngsters, and of rather a blustering
disposition) who had wings on their shoulders,
and, in case of a calm, could puff out their
cheeks, and blow almost as fresh a breeze as their
father. I ought not to forget the prophets and
conjurers, of whom there were several in the crew,
and who could foretell what would happen to-morrow
or the next day, or a hundred years hence, but
were generally quite unconscious of what was
passing at the moment.

Jason appointed Tiphys to be helmsman because he
was a star-gazer, and knew the points of the
compass. Lynceus, on account of his sharp sight,
was stationed as a look-out in the prow, where he
saw a whole day's sail ahead, but was rather apt
to overlook things that lay directly under his
nose. If the sea only happened to be deep enough,
however, Lynceus could tell you exactly what kind
of rocks or sands were at the bottom of it; and he
often cried out to his companions, that they were
sailing over heaps of sunken treasure, which yet
he was none the richer for beholding. To confess
the truth, few people believed him when he said
it.

Well! But when the Argonauts, as these fifty
brave adventurers were called, had prepared
everything for the voyage, an unforeseen
difficulty threatened to end it before it was
begun. The vessel, you must understand, was so
long, and broad, and ponderous, that the united
force of all the fifty was insufficient to shove
her into the water. Hercules, I suppose, had not
grown to his full strength, else he might have set
her afloat as easily as a little boy launches his
boat upon a puddle. But here were these fifty
heroes, pushing, and straining, and growing red in
the face, without making the Argo start an inch.
At last, quite wearied out, they sat themselves
down on the shore exceedingly disconsolate, and
thinking that the vessel must be left to rot and
fall in pieces, and that they must either swim
across the sea or lose the Golden Fleece.

All at once, Jason bethought himself of the
galley's miraculous figure-head.

"O, daughter of the Talking Oak," cried
he, "how shall we set to work to get our
vessel into the water?"

"Seat yourselves," answered the image
(for it had known what had ought to be done from
the very first, and was only waiting for the
question to be put),--" seat yourselves, and
handle your oars, and let Orpheus play upon his
harp."

Immediately the fifty heroes got on board, and
seizing their oars, held them perpendicularly in
the air, while Orpheus (who liked such a task far
better than rowing) swept his fingers across the
harp. At the first ringing note of the music,
they felt the vessel stir. Orpheus thrummed away
briskly, and the galley slid at once into the sea,
dipping her prow so deeply that the figure-head
drank the wave with its marvelous lips, and rising
again as buoyant as a swan. The rowers plied
their fifty oars; the white foam boiled up before
the prow; the water gurgled and bubbled in their
wake; while Orpheus continued to play so lively a
strain of music, that the vessel seemed to dance
over the billows by way of keeping time to it.
Thus triumphantly did the Argo sail out of the
harbor, amidst the huzzas and good wishes of
everybody except the wicked old Pelias, who stood
on a promontory, scowling at her, and wishing that
he could blow out of his lungs the tempest of
wrath that was in his heart, and so sink the
galley with all on board. When they had sailed
above fifty miles over the sea, Lynceus happened
to cast his sharp eyes behind, and said that there
was this bad-hearted king, still perched upon the
promontory, and scowling so gloomily that it
looked like a black thunder-cloud in that quarter
of the horizon.

In order to make the time pass away more
pleasantly during the voyage, the heroes talked
about the Golden Fleece. It originally belonged,
it appears, to a Boeotian ram, who had taken on
his back two children, when in danger of their
lives, and fled with them over land and sea as far
as Colchis. One of the children, whose name was
Helle, fell into the sea and was drowned. But the
other (a little boy, named Phrixus) was brought
safe ashore by the faithful ram, who, however, was
so exhausted that he immediately lay down and
died. In memory of this good deed, and as a token
of his true heart, the fleece of the poor dead ram
was miraculously changed to gold, and became one
of the most beautiful objects ever seen on earth.
It was hung upon a tree in a sacred grove, where
it had now been kept I know not how many years,
and was the envy of mighty kings, who had nothing
so magnificent in any of their palaces.

If I were to tell you all the adventures of the
Argonauts, it would take me till nightfall, and
perhaps a great deal longer. There was no lack of
wonderful events, as you may judge from what you
have already heard. At a certain island, they
were hospitably received by King Cyzicus, its
sovereign, who made a feast for them, and treated
them like brothers. But the Argonauts saw that
this good king looked downcast and very much
troubled, and they therefore inquired of him what
was the matter. King Cyzicus hereupon informed
them that he and his subjects were greatly abused
and incommoded by the inhabitants of a neighboring
mountain, who made war upon them, and killed many
people, and ravaged the country. And while they
were talking about it, Cyzicus pointed to the
mountain, and asked Jason and his companions what
they saw there.

"I see some very tall objects," answered
Jason; "but they are at such a distance that
I cannot distinctly make out what they are. To
tell your majesty the truth, they look so very
strangely that I am inclined to think them clouds,
which have chanced to take something like human
shapes."

"I see them very plainly," remarked
Lynceus, whose eyes, you know, were as far-sighted
as a telescope. "They are a band of enormous
giants, all of whom have six arms apiece, and a
club, a sword, or some other weapon in each of
their hands."

"You have excellent eyes," said King
Cyzicus. "Yes; they are six-armed giants, as
you say, and these are the enemies whom I and my
subjects have to contend with."

The next day, when the Argonauts were about
setting sail, down came these terrible giants,
stepping a hundred yards at a stride, brandishing
their six arms apiece, and looking formidable, so
far aloft in the air. Each of these monsters was
able to carry on a whole war by himself, for with
one arm he could fling immense stones, and wield a
club with another, and a sword with a third, while
the fourth was poking a long spear at the enemy,
and the fifth and sixth were shooting him with a
bow and arrow. But, luckily, though the giants
were so huge, and had so many arms, they had each
but one heart, and that no bigger nor braver than
the heart of an ordinary man. Besides, if they
had been like the hundred-armed Briareus, the
brave Argonauts would have given them their hands
full of fight. Jason and his friends went boldly
to meet them, slew a great many, and made the rest
take to their heels, so that if the giants had had
six legs apiece instead of six arms, it would have
served them better to run away with.

Another strange adventure happened when the
voyagers came to Thrace, where they found a poor
blind king, named Phineus, deserted by his
subjects, and living in a very sorrowful way, all
by himself: On Jason's inquiring whether they
could do him any service, the king answered that
he was terribly tormented by three great winged
creatures, called Harpies, which had the faces of
women, and the wings, bodies, and claws of
vultures. These ugly wretches were in the habit
of snatching away his dinner, and allowed him no
peace of his life. Upon hearing this, the
Argonauts spread a plentiful feast on the
sea-shore, well knowing, from what the blind king
said of their greediness, that the Harpies would
snuff up the scent of the victuals, and quickly
come to steal them away. And so it turned out;
for, hardly was the table set, before the three
hideous vulture women came flapping their wings,
seized the food in their talons, and flew off as
fast as they could. But the two sons of the North
Wind drew their swords, spread their pinions, and
set off through the air in pursuit of the thieves,
whom they at last overtook among some islands,
after a chase of hundreds of miles. The two
winged youths blustered terribly at the Harpies
(for they had the rough temper of their father),
and so frightened them with their drawn swords,
that they solemnly promised never to trouble King
Phineus again.

Then the Argonauts sailed onward and met with many
other marvelous incidents, any one of which would
make a story by itself. At one time they landed
on an island, and were reposing on the grass, when
they suddenly found themselves assailed by what
seemed a shower of steel-headed arrows. Some of
them stuck in the ground, while others hit against
their shields, and several penetrated their flesh.
The fifty heroes started up, and looked about them
for the hidden enemy, but could find none, nor see
any spot, on the whole island, where even a single
archer could lie concealed. Still, however, the
steel-headed arrows came whizzing among them; and,
at last, happening to look upward, they beheld a
large flock of birds, hovering and wheeling aloft,
and shooting their feathers down upon the
Argonauts. These feathers were the steel-headed
arrows that had so tormented them. There was no
possibility of making any resistance; and the
fifty heroic Argonauts might all have been killed
or wounded by a flock of troublesome birds,
without ever setting eyes on the Golden Fleece, if
Jason had not thought of asking the advice of the
oaken image.

So he ran to the galley as fast as his legs would
carry him.

"O, daughter of the Speaking Oak," cried
he, all out of breath, "we need your wisdom
more than ever before! We are in great peril from
a flock of birds, who are shooting us with their
steel-pointed feathers. What can we do to drive
them away?"

"Make a clatter on your shields," said
the image.

On receiving this excellent counsel, Jason hurried
back to his companions (who were far more dismayed
than when they fought with the six-armed giants),
and bade them strike with their swords upon their
brazen shields. Forthwith the fifty heroes set
heartily to work, banging with might and main, and
raised such a terrible clatter, that the birds
made what haste they could to get away; and though
they had shot half the feathers out of their
wings, they were soon seen skimming among the
clouds, a long distance off, and looking like a
flock of wild geese. Orpheus celebrated this
victory by playing a triumphant anthem on his
harp, and sang so melodiously that Jason begged
him to desist, lest, as the steel-feathered birds
had been driven away by an ugly sound, they might
be enticed back again by a sweet one.

While the Argonauts remained on this island, they
saw a small vessel approaching the shore, in which
were two young men of princely demeanor, and
exceedingly handsome, as young princes generally
were, in those days. Now, who do you imagine
these two voyagers turned out to be? Why, if you
will believe me, they were the sons of that very
Phrixus, who, in his childhood, had been carried
to Colchis on the back of the golden-fleeced ram.
Since that time, Phrixus had married the king's
daughter; and the two young princes had been born
and brought up at Colchis, and had spent their
play-days in the outskirts of the grove, in the
center of which the Golden Fleece was hanging upon
a tree. They were now on their way to Greece, in
hopes of getting back a kingdom that had been
wrongfully taken from their father.

When the princes understood whither the Argonauts
were going, they offered to turn back, and guide
them to Colchis. At the same time, however, they
spoke as if it were very doubtful whether Jason
would succeed in getting the Golden Fleece.
According to their account, the tree on which it
hung was guarded by a terrible dragon, who never
failed to devour, at one mouthful, every person
who might venture within his reach.

"There are other difficulties in the
way," continued the young princes. "But
is not this enough? Ah, brave Jason, turn back
before it is too late. It would grieve us to the
heart, if you and your nine and forty brave
companions should be eaten up, at fifty mouthfuls,
by this execrable dragon."

"My young friends," quietly replied
Jason, "I do not wonder that you think the
dragon very terrible. You have grown up from
infancy in the fear of this monster, and therefore
still regard him with the awe that children feel
for the bugbears and hobgoblins which their nurses
have talked to them about. But, in my view of the
matter, the dragon is merely a pretty large
serpent, who is not half so likely to snap me up
at one mouthful as I am to cut off his ugly head,
and strip the skin from his body. At all events,
turn back who may, I will never see Greece again,
unless I carry with me the Golden Fleece."

"We will none of us turn back!" cried
his nine and forty brave comrades. "Let us
get on board the galley this instant; and if the
dragon is to make a breakfast of us, much good may
it do him."

And Orpheus (whose custom it was to set everything
to music) began to harp and sing most gloriously,
and made every mother's son of them feel as if
nothing in this world were so delectable as to
fight dragons, and nothing so truly honorable as
to be eaten up at one mouthful, in case of the
worst.

After this (being now under the guidance of the
two princes, who were well acquainted with the
way), they quickly sailed to Colchis. When the
king of the country, whose name was Æetes, heard
of their arrival, he instantly summoned Jason to
court. The king was a stern and cruel looking
potentate; and though he put on as polite and
hospitable an expression as he could, Jason did
not like his face a whit better than that of the
wicked King Pelias, who dethroned his father.
"You are welcome, brave Jason," said
King Æetes. "Pray, are you on a pleasure
voyage?--Or do you meditate the discovery of
unknown islands?--or what other cause has procured
me the happiness of seeing you at my court?"

"Great sir," replied Jason, with an
obeisance--for Chiron had taught him how to behave
with propriety, whether to kings or
beggars--"I have come hither with a purpose
which I now beg your majesty's permission to
execute. King Pelias, who sits on my father's
throne (to which he has no more right than to the
one on which your excellent majesty is now
seated), has engaged to come down from it, and to
give me his crown and sceptre, provided I bring
him the Golden Fleece. This, as your majesty is
aware, is now hanging on a tree here at Colchis;
and I humbly solicit your gracious leave to take
it away." In spite of himself, the king's
face twisted itself into an angry frown; for,
above all things else in the world, he prized the
Golden Fleece, and was even suspected of having
done a very wicked act, in order to get it into
his own possession. It put him into the worst
possible humor, therefore, to hear that the
gallant Prince Jason, and forty-nine of the
bravest young warriors of Greece, had come to
Colchis with the sole purpose of taking away his
chief treasure.

"Do you know," asked King Æetes, eyeing
Jason very sternly, "what are the conditions
which you must fulfill before getting possession
of the Golden Fleece?"

"I have heard," rejoined the youth,
"that a dragon lies beneath the tree on which
the prize hangs, and that whoever approaches him
runs the risk of being devoured at a
mouthful."

"True," said the king, with a smile that
did not look particularly good-natured.
"Very true, young man. But there are other
things as hard, or perhaps a little harder, to be
done before you can even have the privilege of
being devoured by the dragon. For example, you
must first tame my two brazen-footed and
brazen-lunged bulls, which Vulcan, the wonderful
blacksmith, made for me. There is a furnace in
each of their stomachs; and they breathe such hot
fire out of their mouths and nostrils, that nobody
has hitherto gone nigh them without being
instantly burned to a small, black cinder. What
do you think of this, my brave Jason?"

"I must encounter the peril," answered
Jason, composedly, "since it stands in the
way of my purpose."

"After taming the fiery bulls,"
continued King Æetes, who was determined to scare
Jason if possible, "you must yoke them to a
plow, and must plow the sacred earth in the Grove
of Mars, and sow some of the same dragon's teeth
from which Cadmus raised a crop of armed men.
They are an unruly set of reprobates, those sons
of the dragon's teeth; and unless you treat them
suitably, they will fall upon you sword in hand.
You and your nine and forty Argonauts, my bold
Jason, are hardly numerous or strong enough to
fight with such a host as will spring up."

"My master Chiron," replied Jason,
"taught me, long ago, the story of Cadmus.
Perhaps I can manage the quarrelsome sons of the
dragon's teeth as well as Cadmus did."

"I wish the dragon had him," muttered
King Æetes to himself, "and the four-footed
pedant, his schoolmaster, into the bargain. Why,
what a foolhardy, self-conceited coxcomb he is!
We'll see what my fire-breathing bulls will do for
him. Well, Prince Jason," he continued,
aloud, and as complaisantly as he could,
"make yourself comfortable for to-day, and
to-morrow morning, since you insist upon it, you
shall try your skill at the plow."

While the king talked with Jason, a beautiful
young woman was standing behind the throne. She
fixed her eyes earnestly upon the youthful
stranger, and listened attentively to every word
that was spoken; and when Jason withdrew from the
king's presence, this young woman followed him out
of the room.

"I am the king's daughter," she said to
him, "and my name is Medea. I know a great
deal of which other young princesses are ignorant,
and can do many things which they would be afraid
so much as to dream of. If you will trust to me,
I can instruct you how to tame the fiery bulls,
and sow the dragon's teeth, and get the Golden
Fleece."

"Indeed, beautiful princess," answered
Jason, "if you will do me this service, I
promise to be grateful to you my whole life
long."' Gazing at Medea, he beheld a
wonderful intelligence in her face. She was one
of those persons whose eyes are full of mystery;
so that, while looking into them, you seem to see
a very great way, as into a deep well, yet can
never be certain whether you see into the farthest
depths, or whether there be not something else
hidden at the bottom. If Jason had been capable
of fearing anything, he would have been afraid of
making this young princess his enemy; for,
beautiful as she now looked, she might, the very
next instant, become as terrible as the dragon
that kept watch over the Golden Fleece.

"Princess," he exclaimed, "you seem
indeed very wise and very powerful. But how can
you help me to do the things of which you speak?
Are you an enchantress?"

"Yes, Prince Jason," answered Medea,
with a smile, "you have hit upon the truth.
I am an enchantress. Circe, my father's sister,
taught me to be one, and I could tell you, if I
pleased, who was the old woman with the peacock,
the pomegranate, and the cuckoo staff, whom you
carried over the river; and, likewise, who it is
that speaks through the lips of the oaken image,
that stands in the prow of your galley. I am
acquainted with some of your secrets, you
perceive. It is well for you that I am favorably
inclined; for, otherwise, you would hardly escape
being snapped up by the dragon."

"I should not so much care for the
dragon," replied Jason, "if I only knew
how to manage the brazen-footed and fiery-lunged
bulls."

"If you are as brave as I think you, and as
you have need to be," said Medea, "your
own bold heart will teach you that there is but
one way of dealing with a mad bull. What it is I
leave you to find out in the moment of peril. As
for the fiery breath of these animals, I have a
charmed ointment here, which will prevent you from
being burned up, and cure you if you chance to be
a little scorched."

So she put a golden box into his hand, and
directed him how to apply the perfumed unguent
which it contained, and where to meet her at
midnight.

The young man assured her that his heart would not
fail him. He then rejoined his comrades, and told
them what had passed between the princess and
himself, and warned them to be in readiness in
case there might be need of their help. At the
appointed hour he met the beautiful Medea on the
marble steps of the king's palace. She gave him a
basket, in which were the dragon's teeth, just as
they had been pulled out of the monster's jaws by
Cadmus, long ago. Medea then led Jason down the
palace steps, and through the silent streets of
the city, and into the royal pasture ground, where
the two brazen-footed bulls were kept. It was a
starry night, with a bright gleam along the
eastern edge of the sky, where the moon was soon
going to show herself. After entering the
pasture, the princess paused and looked around.

"There they are," said she,
"reposing them. selves and chewing their
fiery cuds in that farthest corner of the field.
It will be excellent sport, I assure you, when
they catch a glimpse of your figure. My father
and all his court delight in nothing so much as to
see a stranger trying to yoke them, in order to
come at the Golden Fleece. It makes a holiday in
Colchis whenever such a thing happens. For my
part, I enjoy it immensely. You cannot imagine in
what a mere twinkling of an eye their hot breath
shrivels a young man into a black cinder."

"Are you sure, beautiful Medea," asked
Jason, "quite sure, that the unguent in the
gold box will prove a remedy against those
terrible burns?"

"If you doubt, if you are in the least
afraid," said the princess, looking him in
the face by the dim starlight, "you had
better never have been born than to go a step
nigher to the bulls."

But Jason had set his heart steadfastly on getting
the Golden Fleece; and I positively doubt whether
he would have gone back without it, even had he
been certain of finding himself turned into a
red-hot cinder, or a handful of white ashes, the
instant he made a step farther. He therefore let
go Medea's hand, and walked boldly forward in the
direction whither she had pointed. At some
distance before him he perceived four streams of
fiery vapor, regularly appearing and again
vanishing, after dimly lighting up the surrounding
obscurity. These, you will understand, were
caused by the breath of the brazen bulls, which
was quietly stealing out of their four nostrils,
as they lay chewing their cuds.

At the first two or three steps which Jason made,
the four fiery streams appeared to gush out
somewhat more plentifully; for the two brazen
bulls had heard his foot tramp, and were lifting
up their hot noses to snuff the air. He went a
little farther, and by the way in which the red
vapor now spouted forth, he judged that the
creatures had got upon their feet. Now he could
see glowing sparks, and vivid jets of flame. At
the next step, each of the bulls made the pasture
echo with a terrible roar, while the burning
breath, which they thus belched forth, lit up the
whole field with a momentary flash. One other
stride did bold Jason make; and, suddenly as a
streak of lightning, on came these fiery animals,
roaring like thunder, and sending out sheets of
white flame, which so kindled up the scene that
the young man could discern every object more
distinctly than by daylight. Most distinctly of
all he saw the two horrible creatures galloping
right down upon him, their brazen hoofs rattling
and ringing over the ground, and their tails
sticking up stiffly into the air, as has always
been the fashion with angry bulls. Their breath
scorched the herbage before them. So intensely
hot it was, indeed, that it caught a dry tree
under which Jason was now standing, and set it all
in a light blaze. But as for Jason himself
(thanks to Medea's enchanted ointment), the white
flame curled around his body, without injuring him
a jot more than if he had been made of asbestos.

Greatly encouraged at finding himself not yet
turned into a cinder, the young man awaited the
attack of the bulls. Just as the brazen brutes
fancied themselves sure of tossing him into the
air, he caught one of them by the horn, and the
other by his screwed-up tail, and held them in a
gripe like that of an iron vice, one with his
right hand, the other with his left. Well, he
must have been wonderfully strong in his arms, to
be sure. But the secret of the matter was, that
the brazen bulls were enchanted creatures, and
that Jason had broken the spell of their fiery
fierceness by his bold way of handling them. And,
ever since that time, it has been the favorite
method of brave men, when danger assails them, to
do what they call " taking the bull by the
horns"; and to gripe him by the tail is
pretty much the same thing--that is, to throw
aside fear, and overcome the peril by despising
it. It was now easy to yoke the bulls, and to
harness them to the plow, which had lain rusting
on the ground for a great many years gone by; so
long was it before anybody could be found capable
of plowing that piece of land. Jason, I suppose,
had been taught how to draw a furrow by the good
old Chiron, who, perhaps, used to allow himself to
be harnessed to the plow. At any rate, our hero
succeeded perfectly well in breaking up the
greensward; and, by the time that the moon was a
quarter of her journey up the sky, the plowed
field lay before him, a large tract of black
earth, ready to be sown with the dragon's teeth.
So Jason scattered them broadcast, and harrowed
them into the soil with a brush-harrow, and took
his stand on the edge of the field, anxious to see
what would happen next.

"Must we wait long for harvest time?" he
inquired of Medea, who was now standing by his
side.

"Whether sooner or later, it will be sure to
come," answered the princess. "A crop
of armed men never fails to spring up, when the
dragon's teeth have been sown."

The moon was now high aloft in the heavens, and
threw its bright beams over the plowed field,
where as yet there was nothing to be seen. Any
farmer, on viewing it, would have said that Jason
must wait weeks before the green blades would peep
from among the clods, and whole months before the
yellow grain would be ripened for the sickle. But
by and by, all over the field, there was something
that glistened in the moonbeams, like sparkling
drops of dew. These bright objects sprouted
higher, and proved to be the steel heads of
spears. Then there was a dazzling gleam from a
vast number of polished brass helmets, beneath
which, as they grew farther out of the soil,
appeared the dark and bearded visages of warriors,
struggling to free themselves from the imprisoning
earth. The first look that they gave at the upper
world was a glare of wrath and defiance. Next
were seen their bright breastplates; in every
right hand there was a sword or a spear, and on
each left arm a shield; and when this strange crop
of warriors had but half grown out of the earth,
they struggled--such was their impatience of
restraint--and, as it were, tore themselves up by
the roots. Wherever a dragon's tooth had fallen,
there stood a man armed for battle. They made a
clangor with their swords against their shields,
and eyed one another fiercely; for they had come
into this beautiful world, and into the peaceful
moonlight, full of rage and stormy passions, and
ready to take the life of every human brother, in
recompense of the boon of their own existence.

There have been many other armies in the world
that seemed to possess the same fierce nature with
the one which had now sprouted from the dragon's
teeth; but these, in the moonlit field, were the
more excusable, because they never had women for
their mothers. And how it would have rejoiced any
great captain, who was bent on conquering the
world, like Alexander or Napoleon, to raise a crop
of armed soldiers as easily as Jason did! For a
while, the warriors stood flourishing their
weapons, clashing their swords against their
shields, and boiling over with the red-hot thirst
for battle. Then they began to shout--"Show
us the enemy! Lead us to the charge! Death or
victory!" "Come on, brave comrades!
Conquer or die!" and a hundred other
outcries, such as men always bellow forth on a
battle field, and which these dragon people seemed
to have at their tongues' ends. At last, the
front rank caught sight of Jason, who, beholding
the flash of so many weapons in the moonlight, had
thought it best to draw his sword. In a moment
all the sons of the dragon's teeth appeared to
take Jason for an enemy; and crying with one
voice, "Guard the Golden Fleece!" they
ran at him with uplifted swords and protruded
spears. Jason knew that it would be impossible to
withstand this blood-thirsty battalion with his
single arm, but determined, since there was
nothing better to be done, to die as valiantly as
if he himself had sprung from a dragon's tooth.

Medea, however, bade him snatch up a stone from
the ground.

"Throw it among them quickly!" cried
she. "It is the only way to save
yourself."

The armed men were now so nigh that Jason could
discern the fire flashing out of their enraged
eyes, when he let fly the stone, and saw it strike
the helmet of a tall warrior, who was rushing upon
him with his blade aloft. The stone glanced from
this man's helmet to the shield of his nearest
comrade, and thence flew right into the angry face
of another, hitting him smartly between the eyes.
Each of the three who had been struck by the stone
took it for granted that his next neighbor had
given him a blow; and instead of running any
farther towards Jason, they began to fight among
themselves. The confusion spread through the
host, so that it seemed scarcely a moment before
they were all hacking, hewing, and stabbing at one
another, lopping off arms, heads, and legs and
doing such memorable deeds that Jason was filled
with immense admiration; although, at the same
time, he could not help laughing to behold these
mighty men punishing each other for an offense
which he himself had committed. In an incredibly
short space of time (almost as short, indeed, as
it had taken them to grow up), all but one of the
heroes of the dragon's teeth were stretched
lifeless on the field. The last survivor, the
bravest and strongest of the whole, had just force
enough to wave his crimson sword over his head and
give a shout of exultation, crying, "Victory!
Victory! Immortal fame!" when he himself
fell down, and lay quietly among his slain
brethren.

And there was the end of the army that had
sprouted from the dragon's teeth. That fierce and
feverish fight was the only enjoyment which they
had tasted on this beautiful earth.

"Let them sleep in the bed of honor,"
said the Princess Medea, with a sly smile at
Jason. "The world will always have
simpletons enough, just like them, fighting and
dying for they know not what, and fancying that
posterity will take the trouble to put laurel
wreaths on their rusty and battered helmets.
Could you help smiling, Prince Jason, to see the
self-conceit of that last fellow, just as he
tumbled down?"

"It made me very sad," answered Jason,
gravely. "And, to tell you the truth,
princess, the Golden Fleece does not appear so
well worth the winning, after what I have here
beheld!"

"You will think differently in the
morning," said Medea. "True, the Golden
Fleece may not be so valuable as you have thought
it; but then there is nothing better in the world;
and one must needs have an object, you know.
Come! Your night's work has been well performed;
and to-morrow you can inform King Æetes that the
first part of your allotted task is
fulfilled."

Agreeably to Medea's advice, Jason went betimes in
the morning to the palace of King Æetes. Entering
the presence chamber, he stood at the foot of the
throne, and made a low obeisance.

"Your eyes look heavy, Prince Jason,"
observed the king; "you appear to have spent
a sleepless night. I hope you have been
considering the matter a little more wisely, and
have concluded not to get yourself scorched to a
cinder, in attempting to tame my brazen-lunged
bulls."

"That is already accomplished, may it please
your majesty," replied Jason. "The
bulls have been tamed and yoked; the field has
been plowed; the dragon's teeth have been sown
broadcast, and harrowed into the soil; the crop of
armed warriors have sprung up, and they have slain
one another, to the last man. And now I solicit
your majesty's permission to encounter the dragon,
that I may take down the Golden Fleece from the
tree, and depart, with my nine and forty
comrades."

King Æetes scowled, and looked very angry and
excessively disturbed; for he knew that, in
accordance with his kingly promise, he ought now
to permit Jason to win the Fleece, if his courage
and skill should enable him to do so. But, since
the young man had met with such good luck in the
matter of the brazen bulls and the dragon's teeth,
the king feared that he would be equally
successful in slaying the dragon. And therefore,
though he would gladly have seen Jason snapped up
at a mouthful, he was resolved (and it was a very
wrong thing of this wicked potentate) not to run
any further risk of losing his beloved Fleece.

"You never would have succeeded in this
business, young man," said he, "if my
undutiful daughter Medea had not helped you with
her enchantments. Had you acted fairly, you would
have been, at this instant, a black cinder, or a
handful of white ashes. I forbid you, on pain of
death, to make any more attempts to get the Golden
Fleece. To speak my mind plainly, you shall never
set eyes on so much as one of its glistening
locks."

Jason left the king's presence in great sorrow and
anger. He could think of nothing better to be
done than to summon together his forty-nine brave
Argonauts, march at once to the Grove of Mars,
slay the dragon, take possession of the Golden
Fleece, get on board the Argo, and spread all sail
for Iolchos. The success of this scheme depended,
it is true, on the doubtful point whether all the
fifty heroes might not be snapped up, at so many
mouthfuls, by the dragon. But, as Jason was
hastening down the palace steps, the Princess
Medea called after him, and beckoned him to
return. Her black eyes shone upon him with such a
keen intelligence, that he felt as if there were a
serpent peeping out of them; and, although she had
done him so much service only the night before, he
was by no means very certain that she would not do
him an equally great mischief before sunset.
These enchantresses, you must know, are never to
be depended upon.

"What says King Æetes, my royal and upright
father?" inquired Medea, slightly smiling.
"Will he give you the Golden Fleece, without
any further risk or trouble?"

"On the contrary," answered Jason,
"he is very angry with me for taming the
brazen bulls and sowing the dragon's teeth. And
he forbids me to make any more attempts, and
positively refuses to give up the Golden Fleece,
whether I slay the dragon or no."

"Yes, Jason," said the princess,
"and I can tell you more. Unless you set
sail from Colchis before to-morrow's sunrise, the
king means to burn your fifty-oared galley, and
put yourself and your forty-nine brave comrades to
the sword. But be of good courage. The Golden
Fleece you shall have, if it lies within the power
of my enchantments to get it for you. Wait for me
here an hour before midnight."

At the appointed hour you might again have seen
Prince Jason and the Princess Medea, side by side,
stealing through the streets of Colchis, on their
way to the sacred grove, in the center of which
the Golden Fleece was suspended to a tree. While
they were crossing the pasture ground, the brazen
bulls came towards Jason, lowing, nodding their
heads, and thrusting forth their snouts, which, as
other cattle do, they loved to have rubbed and
caressed by a friendly hand. Their fierce nature
was thoroughly tamed; and, with their fierceness,
the two furnaces in their stomachs had likewise
been extinguished, insomuch that they probably
enjoyed far more comfort in grazing and chewing
their cuds than ever before. Indeed, it had
heretofore been a great inconvenience to these
poor animals, that, whenever they wished to eat a
mouthful of grass, the fire out of their nostrils
had shriveled it up, before they could manage to
crop it. How they contrived to keep themselves
alive is more than I can imagine. But now,
instead of emitting jets of flame and streams of
sulphurous vapor, they breathed the very sweetest
of cow breath.

After kindly patting the bulls, Jason followed
Medea's guidance into the Grove of Mars, where the
great oak trees, that had been growing for
centuries, threw so thick a shade that the
moonbeams struggled vainly to find their way
through it. Only here and there a glimmer fell
upon the leaf-strewn earth, or now and then a
breeze stirred the boughs aside, and gave Jason a
glimpse of the sky, lest, in that deep obscurity,
he might forget that there was one, overhead. At
length, when they had gone farther and farther
into the heart of the duskiness, Medea squeezed
Jason's hand.

"Look yonder," she whispered. "Do
you see it?"

Gleaming among the venerable oaks, there was a
radiance, not like the moonbeams, but rather
resembling the golden glory of the setting sun.
It proceeded from an object, which appeared to be
suspended at about a man's height from the ground,
a little farther within the wood.

"What is it?" asked Jason.

"Have you come so far to seek it,"
exclaimed Medea, "and do you not recognize
the meed of all your toils and perils, when it
glitters before your eyes? It is the Golden
Fleece."

Jason went onward a few steps farther, and then
stopped to gaze. O, how beautiful it looked,
shining with a marvelous light of its own, that
inestimable prize which so many heroes had longed
to behold, but had perished in the quest of it,
either by the perils of their voyage, or by the
fiery breath of the brazen- lunged bulls.

"How gloriously it shines!" cried Jason,
in a rapture. "It has surely been dipped in
the richest gold of sunset. Let me hasten onward,
and take it to my bosom."

"Stay," said Medea, holding him back.
"Have you forgotten what guards it?"

To say the truth, in the joy of beholding the
object of his desires, the terrible dragon had
quite slipped out of Jason's memory. Soon,
however, something came to pass, that reminded him
what perils were still to be encountered. An
antelope, that probably mistook the yellow
radiance for sunrise, came bounding fleetly
through the grove. He was rushing straight
towards the Golden Fleece, when suddenly there was
a frightful hiss, and the immense head and half
the scaly body of the dragon was thrust forth (for
he was twisted round the trunk of the tree on
which the Fleece hung), and seizing the poor
antelope, swallowed him with one snap of his jaws.

After this feat, the dragon seemed sensible that
some other living creature was within reach, on
which he felt inclined to finish his meal. In
various directions he kept poking his ugly snout
among the trees, stretching out his neck a
terrible long way, now here, now there, and now
close to the spot where Jason and the princess
were hiding behind an oak. Upon my word, as the
head came waving and undulating through the air,
and reaching almost within arm's length of Prince
Jason, it was a very hideous and uncomfortable
sight. The gape of his enormous jaws was nearly
as wide as the gateway of the king's palace.

"Well, Jason," whispered Medea (for she
was ill natured, as all enchantresses are, and
wanted to make the bold youth tremble), "what
do you think now of your prospect of winning the
Golden Fleece?"

Jason answered only by drawing his sword, and
making a step forward.

"Stay, foolish youth," said Medea,
grasping his arm. "Do not you see you are
lost, without me as your good angel? In this gold
box I have a magic potion, which will do the
dragon's business far more effectually than your
sword."

The dragon had probably heard the voices; for
swift as lightning, his black head and forked
tongue came hissing among the trees again, darting
full forty feet at a stretch. As it approached,
Medea tossed the contents of the gold box right
down the monster's wide-open throat. Immediately,
with an outrageous hiss and a tremendous
wriggle--flinging his tail up to the tip-top of
the tallest tree, and shattering all its branches
as it crashed heavily down again--the dragon fell
at full length upon the ground, and lay quite
motionless.

"It is only a sleeping potion," said the
enchantress to Prince Jason. "One always
finds a use for these mischievous creatures,
sooner or later; so I did not wish to kill him
outright. Quick! Snatch the prize, and let us
begone. You have won the Golden Fleece."

Jason caught the fleece from the tree, and hurried
through the grove, the deep shadows of which were
illuminated as he passed by the golden glory of
the precious object that he bore along. A little
way before him, he beheld the old woman whom he
had helped over the stream, with her peacock
beside her. She clapped her hands for joy, and
beckoning him to make haste, disappeared among the
duskiness of the trees. Espying the two winged
sons of the North Wind (who were disporting
themselves in the moonlight, a few hundred feet
aloft), Jason bade them tell the rest of the
Argonauts to embark as speedily as possible. But
Lynceus, with his sharp eyes, had already caught a
glimpse of him, bringing the Golden Fleece,
although several stone walls, a hill, and the
black shadows of the Grove of Mars, intervened
between. By his advice, the heroes had seated
themselves on the benches of the galley, with
their oars held perpendicularly, ready to let fall
into the water.

As Jason drew near, he heard the Talking Image
calling to him with more than ordinary eagerness,
in its grave, sweet voice:

"Make haste, Prince Jason! For your life,
make haste!"

With one bound, he leaped aboard. At sight of the
glorious radiance of the Golden Fleece, the nine
and forty heroes gave a mighty shout, and Orpheus,
striking his harp, sang a song of triumph, to the
cadence of which the galley flew over the water,
homeward bound, as if careering along with wings!